


The Pretty Boys

by floralathena



Series: Happy Gay Shadowhunters [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Background Malec, Brief Violence, Fluff, Gen, Homophobic Language, The Point Is None Of Them Are Straight, They Are All Gay or Bi or Pan or Something, background clizzy, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralathena/pseuds/floralathena
Summary: Simon felt kinda badass walking down the sidewalk. Jace was to his right, and Alec and Magnus were walking behind them. He could almost hear “Clique” playing in the background, and for the first time in his life, he felt the urge to take a group selfie and caption it #squad. Simon had never felt cooler, except perhaps when Raphael forced a suit onto him for Alec’s wedding. He began to focus on perfecting his strut, a kind of power-affirming walk that Shadowhunters were probably born with.Then, of course, it all went to shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayinsight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayinsight/gifts).



This was probably one of the weirdest outings Simon had been on in his entire life. First of all, he wasn’t accompanied by Raphael, his mother, his sister, Clary, or Maureen. Second of all, he was on a magical shopping trip to collect potion ingredients.

Come to think of it, the lack of vampires and strong female figures probably wasn’t the weirdest thing going on, but this was Simon’s life now. 

Simon felt kinda badass walking down the sidewalk. Jace was to his right, and Alec and Magnus were walking behind them. He could almost hear “Clique” playing in the background, and for the first time in his life, he felt the urge to take a group selfie and caption it #squad. Simon had never felt cooler, except perhaps when Raphael forced a suit onto him for Alec’s wedding. He began to focus on perfecting his strut, a kind of power-affirming walk that Shadowhunters were probably born with. 

Then, of course, it all went to shit.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, jacka- Oh. Well, if it isn’t Simon Lewis!” The man grinned, and it seemed more predatory to Simon than any look Raphael could give him. “Damn, pretty boy, looks like you found yourself a whole gang of queers!”

Simon  _ knew  _ that he was literally an undead supernatural being, but he couldn’t help it. He bowed his head and took a deep breath (which he didn’t need to take, but old habits die hard) to apologize and get on his way, but he saw Jace step forward with the same look in his eyes that he usually reserved for demons and, on occasion, Simon himself. Fuck. Jace couldn’t just go full Shadowhunter on the guy. It was dark out, sure, but that didn’t mean much in New York. There were still plenty of people milling about, just waiting to witness a violent crime.

“Yeah, actually, we are a gang. The Pretty Boys,” Alec said, stepping up to place a calming hand on Jace’s shoulder, “Simon’s our treasurer.”

Simon watched incredulously as Jace silently made a decision, and he stepped out of Brad’s (which, seriously, why did Simon’s old bullies have such stereotypical asshole jock names) personal space to throw an arm around Simon’s shoulders.

“We’re having jackets made. It’s gonna be great.” Jace smiled at Brad, and Simon felt his confidence come back to him.

“Yeah,” Simon added, “It’s really cool, man, I’d invite you to join, but, well…” Simon made a hissing noise like his mother used to make whenever she saw how messy his room was.

Magnus came from seemingly nowhere to take Alec’s hand and add, “We only have one requirement, but you don’t seem to meet it. I mean, we couldn’t proudly call ourselves the Pretty Boys if we let every moderately acceptable white meathead in.”

Brad seemed to be at a loss for a second, before awkwardly chuckling, “Yeah, okay, whatever. Have fun with your gay club, Jew-is.”

Oh, hell no.

“Okay, you know what, Bradley? That’s enough. I know that you know I’m pansexual, and not only is Jew-is the laziest, most blatantly idiotic insult in the world, it’s  _ clearly _ anti-Semitic, like, you did pay attention when we learned about the fucking Holocaust, right? At least have the decency to  _ pretend _ like you aren’t the world’s biggest jackass who throws minorities in dumpsters for fun and lives off the glory of his high school days. Fuck off, man.”

Brad stared at him. Simon could feel three sets of eyes burning a hole in the side of his head, but he stared straight forward at Brad until he huffed and walked away. Simon watched his retreat carefully, almost afraid that Brad would turn around to start a fight, yet still hoping, in some small part of his consciousness, that he would have the chance to show off his new vampire strength.

Simon slowly turned to look at Magnus and the Shadowhunters (which, by the way, would be an excellent band name), who were now trying to pretend that nothing had happened. Well, the Shadowhunters were, at least.

Magnus gave Simon an appraising look.

“Dumpsters?”

Simon shrugged and began walking again. The crew fell into the same positions as before, but their unofficial formation felt a little closer this time around.

“It sucked. I had it a lot better than I could have, though. A lot of the guys in school stopped short of beating me up because they liked Clary and they knew she’d hate them for it. And because I was the lead in the musical, they knew Mrs. Donahue would give them shit for bruising me up. At least sometimes with the dumpster, you got lucky and there wasn’t anything too sharp or hard or gross.”

They were all quiet for a while, and then Alec spoke up.

“How long did that go on?”

Simon laughed, “Too damn long, dude. Like, from elementary school until high school. I grew about a foot before tenth grade and they couldn’t pick me up as easily, so for the last couple years it was primarily verbal stuff, which could be really bad or really pathetic depending on who was going after you. Brad back there was never very clever. Like I said, I didn’t catch the worst of it. Mostly just homophobic assholes and Holocaust jokes, but teachers usually caught those. Some guy did start a rumor that I lied about my dad dying and that he was actually deported. That was fucked up. I look pretty white, though, so there wasn’t a ton of that.”

They were all silent for a few more minutes, until Simon cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, are we nearly there, or..?”

Magnus directed them to a surreptitious apothecary in a dark alleyway, and Simon tried to put the encounter out of his mind.

 

\----

 

Of course, it didn’t work out. Because why would the universe ever do Simon Lewis a favor?

As they exited the shop, Simon noticed a group of guys blocking the entrance to the alley. Brad was standing in front of a row of five white guys with near-identical haircuts who all looked as though they consumed nothing but protein powder and beer.

Simon barked out a laugh of incredulity.

“Seriously, dude? Are we gonna have a fucking rumble?” Simon was kinda proud of his consistent ability to make pop culture references before getting his ass kicked. He could see Alec’s confusion out of the corner of his eye.

“If that’s what the fags are calling it these days.”

The guys laughed and jeered. Brad clearly thought that he had just delivered the most clever line in the history of shitty back-alley throwdowns.

Jace leaned in to whisper, “Wanna just get the hell out of here? We can knock them out in a second.”

“...No,” Alec said loudly, surprising Simon, “I think we can spare a minute for a well-deserved ass-kicking.”

Brad and his crew slowly advanced, the guy to Brad’s right cracking his knuckles like some kind of comic book villain. Simon’s life, he reflected, had become a ridiculous cliche the moment he had tracked down Clary at an old church and learned that his best friend was a magical Chosen One.

Brad sauntered up to Simon, looking him intently in the eye. For a split second, Simon considered running away. Then he saw Alec put his bag full of rare potion ingredients on the ground and he realized,  _ holy shit, this is real, I’m a supernatural being and they have my back _ , and he felt more confident than ever.

“This is gonna hurt you,” Simon said, grinning,

“a lot more than it’s gonna hurt me, dude.” 

Brad raised his fist and swung. 

Simon didn’t even blink. He took the hit and gave Brad his best intimidating Raphael-esque smile, flashing the tiniest hint of fang. Simon could see the confusion and fear in Brad’s eyes when he realized that his punch had done nothing. Simon was vaguely aware of Jace to his left, slamming one guy into a brick wall and subsequently kicking another in the nuts. As his hand clenched in Brad’s shirt, he saw Magnus deftly dodging a quick sequence of jabs before punching his assailant in the throat. Simon lifted until Brad’s feet were dangling, and he saw Alec mercilessly pounding his fist into the last guy’s stomach. 

Simon focused his attention on the squirming mundane in his hands. 

“Hey, Brad, you got decent insurance?”

“W-what?”

“I need to know if I’ll ruin your life or not by breaking some ribs. The goal here is to hurt you, not your bank account. You don't have any dependents, do you? I doubt anybody would be willing to stake their livelihood on a Jets reject like you." 

Simon chuckled at his own joke. Brad had tormented him for being in West Side Story in tenth grade. For once, he felt like a whole entire Simon Lewis; not just an awkward nerd with revenge fantasies, not just an inexperienced vampire out of his depth, but some combination of the two.

“Fuck this shit, man, I’m out!” One of Brad’s buddies, the one Jace had so kindly introduced to the neighboring building, struggled to his feet and ran out of the alley. The victim of Magnus’ throat punch sprinted off as well as the other two lay curled up on the ground.

Brad seemed to have realized that Simon wasn’t quite human. Simon wondered if it was the strength or the fangs that did it. All of a sudden, Simon became acutely aware of Brad’s pulse, rushing through his veins and pounding with fear. 

He drew Brad’s face closer to his own, and saw Magnus put a hand over Alec’s, keeping his boyfriend from drawing a weapon. 

Brad’s eyes were red and tears were threatening to spill out. He was breathing heavily. Simon could smell his fear.

“How does it feel, Brad? Being helpless. At the mercy of somebody stronger than you. Except for you, it's not because of your fucking race, or religion, or sexuality. No, this isn't happening to you unfairly. You brought this on yourself. You're a hateful, ignorant asshole whose life is built around nothing but bravado and fucking weightlifting."

Brad cried. He began gasping apologies around snot and tears, begging for his life.

"You’re pathetic,” Simon spat, and dropped Brad into a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Let’s go. We’ve kept the girls waiting long enough.” Simon stalked out of the alley without sparing a backwards glance. About a block down, Jace took his place by Simon’s side, and he could hear Alec and Magnus murmuring behind them. He tried to look over at Jace as subtly as he could. Jace had a smirk on his face, the kind he usually had when talking about himself. He wondered if Alec and Magnus were muttering about him and Jace knew it. Logically, Simon knew his fears were ridiculous and he could use his vampire hearing if he really wanted to, but he had learned over the years that whispers and laughter usually meant ridicule.

“Uh, sorry. About all the, like, rumble shit. I know I insisted that we all go the mundane way to give the girls some alone time to work out their new couple stuff, but I didn’t expect to hold us up like that.” Simon just knew that if he were still a mundane, his palms would be sweating.

“Are you kidding, Sheldon? We had a blast! It’s not every day you start a gang and a gang war within the same hour.” Magnus sounded a little too proud.

“Started? Excuse you. The Pretty Boys are a distinguished group dating back to 2004. We’ve just acquired a couple new members.” Jace slapped Alec on the back, and  _ holy shit _ did Simon want to hear that story.

“It all started, as most epic tales do, with my striking eyes and Alec’s sarcasm…”

 

\--

 

“Merry Christmas!”

Simon dropped his book as a large blue box fell into his lap.

He narrowed his eyes at Izzy, who was beaming.

“Okay, first of all, thank you. Second of all, I’m Jewish. Third of all, it’s not even winter.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m aware. Just open it!”

Simon gave her a little smile and lifted the lid.

“Oh my g--”

“Don’t worry, you little nerd, it’s faux.”

As he held his gift up to the light, Jace and Clary entered the room. After seeing Simon’s face, Jace began laughing so hard that he doubled over while Clary watched on in glee.

Clary bounded over to him and pulled him to his feet.

“Put it on, put it on!”

Simon stood and the girls managed to get the jacket on him before he even knew what was happening, which was impressive, considering the fact that he was a vampire with super speed and enhanced senses.

“What do you think?” Clary asked, pulling him over to Jace.

Simon shared a look with Jace.

“I love it!”

As Izzy and Clary began explaining how they had embroidered and bedazzled them, Simon gave Jace a small smile, like he was saying  _ Hey, thanks for that time you stood up for me even though you swore you despised me, it means a lot _ . Jace gave him a smirk, like he was saying  _ Dude, nobody deserves that, and besides, I’m always glad to school an asshole, also I secretly love you and I only pretend to hate you to keep up appearances. _

Okay, maybe that last bit was a bit of wishful thinking courtesy of Simon’s chronic need for love and validation, but there was definitely some fondness in that smirk.

Maybe he should stop staring at Jace before people notice.

“Simon, are you seeing this?” Clary’s voice broke through his line of thought and he jerked his head to look at her.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” Simon nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously, because Jace laughed and said, “Don’t feel bad, a lot of people get distracted when they look at me.”

Simon rolled his eyes, deciding the safest course of action was not to respond. Instead, he turned his attention to the doorway, where Alec and Magnus had appeared, wearing the matching jackets.

“I have to say, biscuit, I’m impressed with the quality of your work. Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to pursue a career in fashion design?”

“I think killing demons is enough for me, thanks.”

“Magnus, how did you get my darling brother to wear it?”

“Oh, I have my ways. I don’t think you’d like to know.”

Simon glanced at Alec, who was gazing at Magnus like a dying man might gaze at an angel. Simon came to the conclusion that no inappropriate coercion had been required, but Magnus and Alec both had reputations to uphold, so everyone was glad to believe the implication.

It occurred to Simon that he had no such restrictions. 

“Hey, everybody? I know this is lame and all, but I love you guys. I mean, I never really thought I’d have anybody but Clary sticking up for me, and even though I can mostly manage on my own now, it still means a lot that you have my back. Even if you don’t all like me very much.” 

It occurred to Simon that his reputation was that of an overly honest nerd dependent on the approval of others, and he never really needed to try because it maintained itself.

The room was quiet for a second as they all looked at Simon.

“Dude, that was so gay.”

And Simon found himself in the middle of a very (faux) leathery group hug. His fingertips traced the embroidery on the back of somebody’s jacket, he couldn’t tell whose, but Simon figured it didn't really matter.

Afterwards, Alec would act as though Magnus had forced him into it. Magnus would give a vaguely suggestive leer and make a vague comment about strong young men. Jace would pretend he had only participated for Alec, Izzy, and Clary. Izzy and Clary would pretend like they hadn’t ducked out at the last second to simply embrace each other instead.

Simon would return to the hotel and lay his new prized possession in front of Raphael with a wide, fang-revealing grin. He would recount the whole story, how he would have meekly apologized if not for Jace and Alec. He would tell Raphael about how he had almost bitten Brad, but Magnus had trusted him not to. He would cry at the memory of three men who used to hate (or at least barely tolerate) him embracing him with total love and acceptance. 

Most of all, he would wear that jacket proudly every day, proudly proclaiming himself to be a  _ Pretty Boy _ in glittery purple thread, surrounded by bedazzled flowers and rainbows. He proudly displayed the sparkling pansexual flag Clary had put on the sleeve, right where Alec, Magnus, and Jace had been given their respectful pride flags.

And maybe he’s never seen anybody else wear theirs out on a regular day, but he knows that they value them.

And if Simon sees a bedazzled rainbow peeking out of Alec’s bag, that’s none of his business.

And if Simon sees an embroidered  _ P  _ hiding behind a sofa cushion while he’s over at Magnus’ apartment, he doesn’t have to say anything.

And if one long night at the Institute, Simon stumbles across Jace relaxed in an armchair, eyes drooping shut, sleepily tracing the rhinestones of a pride flag, well, nobody needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post: http://setheverman.tumblr.com/post/136833733974/weahboo-my-grandpa-was-in-a-gang-called-the


End file.
